You Left Me On My Knees
by Shade Asylum
Summary: Santana can't take it anymore. She's done. Sequel to You're Gonna Be My Bruise. One-Shot. End of the I Don't Love You Series.


**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex. Finn bashing. Cursing. Angst.**

Santana Lopez was as good as dead. The girl that once roamed the halls of McKinley, head held high and tongue poised for a lashing, wasn't there anymore. She left with the last of her pride and all that was left was me, an angry, bitter, spineless shell that only kept up the reputation she'd worked so hard to build because when you looked close enough, in my dark eyes, the dangerous tilt of my head, and the set of my back just barely restraining the urge to slump in defeat, because I'd admitted to mysef thst I'd given up on everything, but that didn't mean I would admit it to everyone else.

_I tried my best to keep you here  
>But it's hard to hold a shadow<br>You said goodbye but I couldn't hear  
>Too busy praying for a miracle<em>

Rachel wasn't fairing much better, but she was better off. I watched her watching Finn, and it wasn't even the stolen glances or the way she slowly stopped trying to hide it that hurt the most. What hurt the most, absolutely killed me, or whatever was left of who I used to be, was the pity in her eyes when she finally looked back to me. The only difference between us was I had noone else to look to so all I could do was look back, eyes empty of the passion that was once there. That used to be what she wanted from me, my passion, my love, my purewant for her. Now I was just a prop so she wouldn't have to suffer alone. Misery loves company and Rachel Berry had me.

_And you left me on my knees  
>You just walked out the door<br>You didn't even have the decency to intervene while I was begging God for  
>you to love me<em>

"Rachel, why?" I was trying not to raise my voice on one of the rare occasions I still felt _anything._ She wouldn't look at me, not right away, "He asked me to sing with him. I can't put off my responsibilities for glee because of your petty-" "He asked," I mocked, "He needs," I snapped, "He wants," I yelled, tears spilling down my cheeks. "What the fuck about me? When the fuck are you going to care about me?" "I do," she tried weakly, "Santana, I do, I just-" she shook her head, not even believing herself. "Don't lie to me, goddamnit," I palmed one of my eyes as I turned away. "What the fuck are you going to do on Broadway if I can't even believe you," a dark and hysterical chuckle escaped my throat, melting into sobs. She recoiled from the attack, but telling her he didn't love her wasn't enough for me anymore. "Santana," she started, her voice so tiny I almost wanted to turnmand hug her, admit that it wasn't true, but I didn't, "Im not lying to you, we're just going to practice." She was. She wasn't just going to sing with him, but any evening spent singing with Finn, dancing, talking, doing absolutely anything was worth more than any night pretending to love me. "Just go," I breathed, my erratic laughter finally dying as I refused to look at her. She had nothing else to say. Months before, if you'd have told me that Rachel Berry would have nothing to say to me I might have jumped for joy, now it was all that kept me from yelling at her again. I ignored the feeling of her pity, so grateful when she finally left.

_I prayed about us every night  
>Boy I know you had to hear me<br>You could've stopped me then and told the truth  
>But instead you pulled the pillow over your head<em>

Her parents didn't care much either and I suppose I even made up for them too. Long trips out of town became excuses to have me over, they were the times she wanted me, or maybe just anyone who could act like they gave two fucks about her. Those were the nights we coud pretend this was real. She wanted someone to hold her, to make her feel loved, and to fill the empty void now that she was aware of it. I got to be what she wanted for so long, before the spell was broken and I could only watch her longingly, wishing that she could want me as much as I had wanted her.

_And you left me on my knees  
>You just walked out the door<br>You didn't even have the decency to intervene while I was begging God for  
>you to love me<em> _You should've told me it was useless, that I was praying empty prayers  
>But you hopped in your car, pulled out your keys<br>While you were leaving, I was begging God for you to love me_

I spoke to myself. Or maybe I was praying. It was rediculous. One way I was losing my mind, the other, I spoke to a god I didn't entirely believe in. I tried to be honest with myself in ways I hadn't been in years. I told myself she didn't love me, that there was no point in loving her. I asked myself why I stayed, was she worth this, what happened to the girl I used to be, and would I ever be her again? I answered myself, at least, what I could. She wasn'tworth it. The girl I once was vanished. The most painful thing I told myself, each and everytime I saw her, was that I was wasting time, hers and mine.

_And I know that He had something better to do  
>Than to sit and listen to a broken-hearted fool<br>Could've been saving the world from a tragedy, but instead He was listening  
>to me<br>I was asking, begging for a sign to bring comfort to this lonely heart of  
>mine<br>But apparently you're not what I need  
>I guess you walking out was Him answering<br>You left me on my knees_

My throat hurt. So much more was in pain as I sat down, tears sliding down my cheeks as I finished, all eyes of the club on my, but I did my best to focus on the thick pain in my throat. That wasn't the first time those people had seen me cry and I was certain it wouldn't be the last. It felt like an eternity before Mr. Schuester finally got up and encouraged anybody else to perform. I wasn't sure who did, but most of the eyes were off of me. I wasn't sure when I'd stopped breathing, but my lungs burned as Mr. Schue told us we could go. I took my time, resisting the urge to run, but still gathering my things. "Santana, I-" "Stop," I pleaded, my voice was weaker than I was hoping it would be. "Please just-" "No," I finally turned around; my eyes leaking again as I reached up to hold her shoulders. I dropped my hands instead, "Please don't do this to me. I'm asking you," I ground my teeth, uncomfortable being alone with her anymore, "Stop fucking doing this to me. Stop acting like you care, like you're trying, because I can't take it anymore, and- and I don't deserve it." She stared at me in silence, and her eyes were glistening too. For a moment, I almost saw what I wanted, I almost saw the love, that longing, but then it was gone. It was a subtle motion; if I hadn't been paying attention I wouldn't have seen her nod. "Thank you," I sighed, feeling that burn in my lungs again. _You just walked out the door  
>You didn't even have the decency to intervene while I was begging God for<br>you to love me_ More tears were the last thing I needed, but I had to get it out. Sitting alone in my car, watching the last few people leave, all I could do was turn up the radio and listen to the song that had been haunting me. Her car was the last to leave, and I took that as a sign, Rachel Berry didn't love me, and it was time for me to stop loving her.

_I tried my best to keep you here  
>But it's hard to hold a shadow…<em>

**A/N: The song used was Empty Prayers by Mary J. Blige. Thank you guys who've been following this series. This might just be the last installment in this series, thank you to all who've followed this experience with me, Santana, and Rachel. This one's taken so long, and it took so long to find a song that really seemed to fit the girls struggle, I really hope I did this series and these characters justice and of course I hope you guys enjoy this.**


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